


Caramel Drizzle

by acedavestrider



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, coffee shop AU, korra being a bisexual disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 11:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17263160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acedavestrider/pseuds/acedavestrider
Summary: The first time you see Asami Sato you almost drop a customer’s soy latte.





	Caramel Drizzle

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr prompt from barley-st-band!

The first time you see Asami Sato you almost drop a customer’s soy latte. You’ve heard about her through the grapevine, an up-and-coming starlet with a company under her name at age twenty-one, and she’s even more attractive in person. You’ve seen her online, have been following her on Instagram for some time even, but nothing could have prepared you for how she looks in real life. It’s simply unfair. 

You openly stare at her for a moment before you catch yourself, and return to your task of turning over the soy latte to the greedy hands of the nearby customer. As soon as the drink is successfully passed off, you’re whirling around to look at Asami again, wondering if she’s going to come to your register or someone else’s. It seems like she’s approaching you, and your hands start to sweat. You flash her your customer service smile, and hope it doesn’t come off as nervous and crazed as you feel. 

“Hi, how are you?” she asks, in a voice like butter. 

“Good!” you nearly shout at her. You clear your throat and lower your voice to a more socially acceptable, indoor level. “I’m doing good, you?” 

“Just fine,” she says, and when she gives you a gentle smile you feel it right in your gut. 

“What can I get you?” you ask, trying to hold back nervous shakes. 

“I’ll have a tall, non-fat latte with a caramel drizzle.” 

You punch her order into the register and give her the total, which she pays for with a platinum card. You don’t want to seem like a creep, so you ask her for her name for the order, despite already knowing it. 

“Asami,” she says in that sing-song voice of hers. You think you see flowers starting to sprout outside from the sound. 

“That’s a pretty name,” you say, though you don’t mean to do so out loud. You pause with your mouth halfway open, and to your surprise Asami lets out a shy chuckle. 

“Thank you,” she says. “My parents gave it to me.” 

It takes you a moment to realize she’s joking. You suddenly bark out a laugh, far too loud, and Asami gives you a polite smile in return. 

“Uh, I’ll have this ready for you in just a few minutes,” you say after an awkward silence. 

She smiles again, teeth so white they hurt your eyes. “Thanks.” 

“Sure thing!” 

You deflate the moment she’s out of your line of sight, and you’re suddenly exhausted from what seems like a year long interaction. Nothing like a pretty girl to completely knock the wind out of you. 

You clench and unclench your fists to stop your hands from shaking and get to work on making her latte. It sounds more complicated than it really is, and it only takes you a couple minutes to get it done. You approach the countertop and are ready to call out Asami’s name when she appears in front of you, hand outstretched to receive her drink. You hope she wasn’t watching you, lest she bear witness to your momentary panic behind the counter. 

“Oh, uh, here you go,” you say, as cheerfully as you can muster. “Tall, non-fat latte with a caramel drizzle.” 

“Thank you, uh,” she glances down at your nametag, “Korra.” 

Hearing her say your name in such a pretty tone makes your spine tingle and your toes curl. You feel bashful and warm and you can’t speak until you clear your throat. 

“Thanks,” you say. And then, “No, I mean - you’re welcome! Uh, you’re welcome.” 

She laughs again, behind her hand. “Have a nice day.” 

“You too!” Why are you shouting? You should not be shouting. 

You watch Asami leave, eyes focused on the delicate curve of her back, until she’s out of sight. You let out a lovelorn sigh and turn around, and end up running directly into Bolin’s chest, who’s staring down at you with a knowing look. 

“What?” you ask, feigning innocence. 

“You like Asami Sato, don’t you Korra?” 

You blink, and scoff, and wave your hand around in a completely nonchalant gesture. “What? No,” you say. “I don’t even know her.” 

“Well  _ get  _ to know her,” he suggests, like it’s obvious. “You should have written your number on her cup or something!” 

That’s genius. “That’s stupid,” you say. “And weird, and creepy.” 

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “No it’s not,” he argues. “It’s… bold! And sexy!” 

“Maybe I’ll try that next time,” you promise. “If there is a next time.” 

“I saw the way she was looking at you,” he says mischievously. “There’ll be a next time.” 

He turns to leave as you process that, and to his back you call, “Wait, how was she looking at me? Bolin!”

* * *

 

As it turns out, there does end up being a next time. And a time after that, and a time after that. Asami becomes a regular at the Starbucks where you work, frequenting the establishment several times a week. You don’t get any more used to her presence, and the anxiety that courses through you and makes your hands shake and your cheeks flush doesn’t exactly go away. 

She orders the same drink every time, and eventually you start to remember it. You’re normally already starting to ring up the order when she walks in, though you don’t tell her that for fear of freaking her out. You don’t want to seem like some sort of over-eager, stalkerish fan of hers, though you guess you’re kind of exactly that. 

Bolin continues to harass you and tries to convince you to ask Asami out on a date, but you’ve never asked anyone out before and have no idea how to proceed. Bolin is just as inexperienced as you are, and his pointers aren’t exactly helpful, so you just… do nothing. 

“Hello Korra,” Asami greets you one day, a few weeks after your initial meeting. 

“Hey Asami,” you say back. You can’t believe you’re on a first name basis, and you revel in saying her name aloud. 

“I’ll have the usual,” she says. 

She’s about to speak again when you beat her to it, “A tall, non-fat latte?” 

“With-”

“With a caramel drizzle,” you finish. 

You’re horrified for a moment, worried that you’ve completely freaked her out, but she just smiles at you. In fact, she beams at you, and seems elated. 

“You remembered!” she exclaims. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter and you know you’re blushing. “I know that’s kind of… uh…” 

“It’s sweet,” she says, and your heart flies up into your throat. “You’re sweet.” 

“So is your latte!” you add, and you shoot finger guns at her, and god you want to die. 

She laughs and says, “Yes, I suppose it is.” 

“I’ll uh, have this done for you in just a bit,” you say. You think you’re sweating a little now. You hope she doesn’t notice. 

“Great, thanks Korra.” Asami shoots you a modelesque smile and gets out of line, heading for a table near the back of the store to wait. 

Making her drink is all muscle memory at this point, you’ve made it so many times. You’re able to make it in just a few minutes and as you’re about to go to the counter to give it to her, you pause. Bolin’s words come back to you, his encouragements echoing in your head, and you get an idea. You grab the sharpie you use to write names on the cups and scribble your number against the plastic, hand shaking so much the numbers come out scrawled and wiggly. Hopefully she’ll be able to read them. 

When you call Asami’s name, she takes the cup from you and bids you goodbye with a friendly smile. As she leaves, you can see her notice the writing on the cup, but you turn away before you can get a glimpse of her expression. If she’s confused, upset, or disappointed, you don’t want to know. 

A few days pass with you waiting by your phone outside of work, but nothing comes. The longer you wait, the worse you feel, disappointment and bitterness creeping into the pit of your stomach. You guess you were wrong about Asami, she was probably only being nice to you out of an obligation to be kind to service workers. You’re such an idiot.

“Maybe she accidentally threw the cup away without saving your number,” Bolin suggests. 

“I doubt it,” you mutter, miserably wiping down the counter. “She probably just wants nothing to do with me.” 

“That’s not true!” 

“She hasn’t been here in like a week,” you argue. “I messed up so badly she doesn’t even want to come here anymore.” 

Bolin frowns, and the bell above the door jingles to indicate a customer has come in. You crane your neck to see if it’s someone you might be willing to deal with, and panic shoots through you when you see that it’s Asami. 

“Oh my god,” you say, and you duck behind the milk steamer. “Oh my god, it’s Asami.” 

Bolin’s eyes widen as he spots her as well, and for some reason he ducks down with you. “What should we do?” he asks. 

“I don’t know, go take her order,” you suggest. “Don’t let her see me.” 

“Right,” he says with a nod. 

He stands up and moves to the register, and you peer at him from behind the machinery. You see him and Asami exchange a few words and then he’s pointing at you with a little smile. You make a bunch of rapid hand gestures at him as he approaches you, trying to tell him to leave so he doesn’t give away your position. 

“Hey,” he whispers, crouching down to your level. “She wants to talk to you.” 

“Did she say why?” you hiss back. 

He shakes his head, shrugs, and leaves you to your devices. You take a deep breath and stand, straightening your apron, and you walk up to the register as confidently as you can manage. 

“Korra!” Asami says when she sees you, and she sounds delighted. “How are you?” 

“I’m fine,” you say, a little short. “You?” 

“Good! I’m… I’m sorry it’s been a while,” she says. “I had a business trip to go on and then I got held up at the airport. It was a mess.” 

“Oh,” you say dumbly. That explains where she’s been. 

“Also,” she pulls an old Starbucks cup from her bag. It’s been cleaned out, and still has your handwriting scrawled on the side. “I tried texting you but… I think you gave me the wrong number.” 

You take the cup from her and examine the numbers on the plastic. It isn’t your phone number at all, the last four digits are completely out of order. In your haste to write it down and in the midst of your panic at the prospect of interacting with Asami, you must have gotten your numbers confused. You’re such an idiot. 

A laugh bursts out of you suddenly, partly relief and partly embarrassment. Asami lets out her own little giggle and looks at you expectantly. 

“No, this is not my number,” you say slowly. “I guess I, uh, accidentally wrote the wrong one.” 

“Well, um,” she rifles around in her bag again and produces a pen and a pad of sticky notes, “Maybe you could… try again?” 

You can’t believe this is happening. Asami Sato herself is asking you for your number, right now, while you’re covered in coffee grounds and wearing an apron. You’re not sure if the universe is playing a prank on you or what, but you hope whatever’s happening never ends. 

You take the pen and paper from her and scribble down your number, this time double and triple checking that you actually do it correctly. She takes the slip of paper from you with a dainty hand and gives you another broad smile. 

“When does your shift end?” she asks. 

You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. “Five-thirty.” 

She shifts a little, adjusts her bag. “Would you like to get dinner tonight?” she suggests. “I’ll pay.” 

“Okay,” you agree, your voice strained. You try to smile but it’s wobbly and crooked. 

“Great!” Asami says, and her voice cracks at the top of the syllable. “I’ll uh… I’ll text you.” 

“Okay… cool.” 

“Cool,” she says. “I’ll see you then?” 

“Yeah,” you half-whisper. You clear your throat and try again, “Yeah!” 

Asami nods her goodbye and leaves without ordering anything and as soon as she’s out the door Bolin is by your side, shaking your shoulder. 

“Did you just get asked out by Asami Sato?” he asks incredulously. 

“I… I think so?” 

“Congratulations!” He shakes you again. You can’t breathe. 

You want to revel in your excitement with Bolin, but soon a string of customers come in and you have to attend to your barista duties. You’re preoccupied for the rest of your shift, mind daydreaming about Asami and your future date, and you’re not sure you get anyone’s order right for the whole rest of the day. 

**Author's Note:**

> ive never written korrasami before for some reason?? their characterizations are a little hard but korra is such an idiot dork that she wasnt too difficult to write haha
> 
> this is my first foray into korrasami so hopefully it turned out alright! maybe ill write more in the future!
> 
> thanks for reading, comments are always appreciated!


End file.
